Broken and Beautiful
by 24isthebest
Summary: "Toby, I just went to my father's memorial service and had to smile at every person in this freaking town." She snapped quickly.  "I don't need a lecture right now."


Hello lovely PLL fans! Yep, this is my second Emily/Toby one-shot :)

Seriously, I've been bit with the ET bug! These two are so much fun to write about! This one is extremely different from my other one, as it deals with the possible death of Emily's father. I have no idea what is going to happen in the show, so these are not spoilers. This is more of a "what if" fic.

So yes, enjoy! And remember, I love feedback, positive or negative! I really enjoy being able to take what you guys say and make my writing better! Just no flaming please!

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7:18

. Only one minute later than the last time he checked.

Since when did time move so slowly?

He scoffed. _Since everyone in town is at Mr. Fields' memorial service. And you're here. _

Not that he would really be expected to go. And why would he? He hadn't even heard the news from Emily. They hadn't really talked much since he got back into town after the Homecoming fiasco. If he was being truthful, he hadn't really talked to anyone since he came back into town. Even after the police cleared him of being "A", he still had this whole stigma around him that he could never shake.

He told Emily once to ignore all the idiots and that what they say doesn't matter. But that doesn't mean their daily harassment didn't suck. Since he came back to school, he had gotten even more shaving cream in his locker, along with porn super-glued onto his locker ( because apparently he ran a porn business through his room), and books about incestuous relationships sent to the school by mail, addressed to him.

Yes. The news of his and Jenna's relationship spread like wildfire all over school once "A" leaked the secrets. How she found out, he didn't know. The only person he told that stuff to was his therapist, and he was pretty sure there was some kinda confidentiality code that professionals had to follow.

The relationship he and Jenna had was a mistake. They had known each other before hand, and there was instantly an attraction there between them. Once their parents got married, a spark was lit between them. She advanced him, and he let her. Once the fire happened, they both realized there was nothing between them. They both thought that being stepsiblings prevented them from being together, only to later realize that they weren't right for each other in the first place.

It was a mistake that he regretted. Not that anyone in school cared to hear his side of the story. _Idiots will always be idiots. _

But even after he came back, he could sense things had changed for him, specifically with Emily. She avoided him like the plague, transferring out of their chemistry class and walking faster in the hall when she sensed he was walking by. She wouldn't even meet his eyes when they crossed paths. It was like he was back to being invisible and scary Toby to her.

He had thought that he needed to clear the air between them. So he sent her a letter, explaining everything. That letter had everything from his relationship with Jenna to how Ali had threatened him that summer and why he took the blame for the fire. He took time and care into the letter, and wrote that she could call him anytime she wanted to talk.

He was embarrassed to say that he actually waited every day for a week for her to call. His phone stayed on the loudest possible ring, so he could hear it anywhere. He even took quicker showers so that he wouldn't miss her call then either.

She didn't call the week after. Or the week after. Or the week after. Months started to go by, and he eventually realized she wasn't going to be calling. He was so stupid for ever thinking that she would. God, he had started to forget how her voice even sounded. He hadn't heard it in so long.

The last amount of contact he had with her was about a month ago, and it was not even real contact. One morning, he and Jenna were walking into school when he passed Emily's locker and saw something that made him do a double take. It was a picture of Maya and Emily kissing. It was always obvious to him that something was up between them, but he wanted to give Emily her space to figure things out.

On the bottom of the poster in smaller print, read 'Looks **like Emily can't keep her gay hormones in! – A**'.

God, this A was torturing her. Had she done other things this cruel to Emily before? The thought of someone harassing Emily, even now, infuriated him. He quickly left Jenna's side and tore the poster down from her locker. No matter how far apart he and Emily were, he wasn't going to let her get intentionally hurt like that.

It turns out that there were many more posters around school, so even though he tried to help her, people still found out about her and Maya's relationship. He was an outcast, but that didn't mean he couldn't hear the buzzing gossip around the hall. He tried to find her that day, but she was nowhere to be found.

From that day on, he realized he needed to stop purposely putting himself in situations where Emily Fields was. She didn't care about him. Why should he care about her?

Easier said than done. This town was small as hell. Sometimes it was a bit like a cage whose bars kept closing in, making the cage smaller and smaller with each passing day. He saw the same damn people ever day, and one way or another the thought of Emily came up. All he had to do was read the paper this morning and find Mr. Fields' obituary. Apparently, in the last week he had been stationed he was caught in a deadly car bomb. He died a hero, saving his entire unit. His heart went out to Emily the instant he read it. _She must be devastated. _He remembered how fondly she talked about her father and how close they were. Her father was her hero, and the fact that he was so close to coming home after their years apart was almost a cruel irony.

He wanted to go to the memorial, just to be there for Emily if she needed him. But even Jenna laughed at that idea. _If she needed you, she would have told you herself. _If even Jenna thought it was a bad idea, it sure as hell was a bad idea.

When it came to Emily, it seemed like every rational thought went out the window.

He slipped on his headphones and tried to forget about the one girl that he seemingly couldn't forget about. Pulling out his chemistry book, he started to go through the assigned problems for class. He heard a bit of shuffling and commotion outside. _Must be Jenna and her study tapes_. The Grill was closed today, so he was forced to study at home. Turning up the volume, he started tapping his pen to the beat of The Smiths music.

He could sense his door open. "Is everything alright Jenna?" He stopped in his tracks.

Standing at the door of his bedroom was none other than a tear-stained Emily Fields.

"Sorry it's not Jenna. Just me." She said hesitantly, stepping into the room inch by inch.

He took off his headphones and just stared at her. "What are you doing here?"

"I just…" She started, but stopped again, trying to find the right words. "I wanted to see you."

"Really? You have? Because the last four months have told me the exact opposite Emily." He said bitterly. He couldn't help it.

"Toby, please just hear me out."

He tore his eyes away from her and forced himself to look down at his books. "Sure, I'm listening."

She closed the door behind her. The sound of the door closing was like a reverberating noise in the deathly quiet room. He felt her presence moving forward and sitting down on the corner of the bed, as far away from his as possible.

He refused to look up from his book. He was going to have some resolve.

She coughed a little, and then sniffled. He kept his eyes glued on his book as if his life depended on it.

"Can we turn on some music?" She asked hesitantly.

"Emily," he eventually looked up. "Just tell me what you're doing here. Shouldn't you be at your dad's memorial service?" He finally fully looked up at her. He saw black dress that flowed a little below her knees, and her hair flowed out into soft curls. But her eyes were just wrong. They were sad. They didn't have that spark that they usually had.

"I left in the middle of the service. I couldn't be there. Not now."

He sighed. "So you came here?"

She nodded. "You weren't there, so I knew you'd be here. I just figured we could talk or something."

"We can't talk." He said, almost angrily. "I don't know what to talk to you about. I don't know you."

Her face crumpled, and he could tell she was holding back her tears. "I know Toby. I'm a terrible person. I deserve everything I get."

His resolve broke hearing that. "You're not a terrible person Emily." God. He wanted so badly to stay angry with her. But there was just something about Emily Fields that he couldn't help but be drawn to, especially now. Here he was, now reassuring her everything was going to be ok. Once again, irony reared its surprisingly ugly head. He had always been a believer that everything was not ever going to be ok, but for her sake he would lie. He would lie to his grave if it could give her some peace right now.

She rubbed her forehead, as if to ease her headache. "I'm sorry." He heard her mumble.

"It's ok." His resolve had already been broken, so he might as well just keep going with it. "You have a right to be upset."

"It's not just my dad." She said suddenly, looking up at him. "I've been a bitch to you for a long time now. I got your letter."

Great. This is what she wanted to talk about. "I figured."

"You're smarter than anyone Toby. And I… I was stupid for everything. For ignoring you. For not letting you finish speaking at Homecoming. For losing the only real friend who understood me." She moved forward and he caught a scent that suddenly explained it all.

"You smell like whiskey Emily."

She was caught off guard for a second. "Hanna gave me her flask. Don't worry, I'm not drunk."

"You are." How did he not see it earlier? These were drunken words of apology.

"Toby, I just went to my father's memorial service and had to smile to every person in this freaking town." She snapped quickly. "I don't need a lecture right now." He could see the normally proper Emily becoming unhinged, almost unrecognizable.

"Emily, I'm not judging you. But maybe you should leave." He got up off the bed. "I can take you home right now if you want."

"No." she said sternly, pulling his hand back down so he was sitting on the bed again. He saw the desperate pain in her eyes. "I don't want to go home at all." And suddenly, she was on her hands and knees next to him, with her lips attached firmly to his. He could taste the whiskey in her mouth, but mostly he could taste Emily. She was absolutely intoxicating. More potent than the whiskey.

He pulled away. "Emily, please don't. You are drunk." He needed to stop this immediately, before he wouldn't be able to stop.

She pleaded with him. "Toby, just help me forget." A single sob resounded through the room, before she gained composure again. She laid her body over his and grabbed his hand. "Touch me."

His body was on fire. "Emily, you need to get up and think about what you are doing right now."

She didn't respond. Her movements started to get frantic. She grabbed his hands, pushing them under her dress so he could feel that she had nothing on underneath. He immediately removed his hands, like they had been burned. "Emily."

Ignoring him and seeing that she was losing control, she pushed her entire body onto his, and tried to rhythmically shift her body around his, running her hands through his hair.

His body wasn't on fire at all anymore. All he saw was the pain behind her actions. None of this was attraction, it was a coping mechanism. His whole soul ached for the broken girl that was in his heart, no matter who hard he tried to deny it.

In a swift movement, he pulled her off of him and stood up, leaving her on the bed.

"What's wrong Toby?" She got up and met him eye for eye. "This could have helped both of us." She had even herself convinced of this ridiculous notion.

"It doesn't work like that Emily." He said, as gently as possible. "Your dad would have wanted…"

"My dad is dead!" She yelled. Suddenly, it was like a shift had taken place, where the lid she had tightly placed over her emotions was blown. Her resolve broke and tears flooded down her face. "He isn't here anymore, alright! So don't tell me what he would or wouldn't have wanted!"

"But you know he wouldn't have wanted you to do this. To act like this." He stared at her, wishing he could take her pain. She was so hurt and lost, somewhere he never wanted her to be. "You know deep down that us having sex would not have solved anything. It wouldn't have made anything easier, and it certainly could not have made you forget anything."

She stepped closer to him, pointing her finger directly in his chest angrily. Her hot brown eyes burned with anger against his icy cool blues. "You think you know everything about me Toby. You don't."

He held his hands up in surrender. "You're right. I don't. Who knows every single thing about everyone? But I do understand you better than anyone else in this Godforsaken town. And you know that."

She didn't respond, only looked around his room at his posters. At anywhere but him. She saw the mirror in the corner of the room and walked over, staring at her reflection slowly. She looked at the curls in her hair and touched them softly, and then touched the skin of her face as if she was an illusion. As if she might disappear right before her very own eyes.

It broke him to see her like this. He walked up behind her, and against his better judgment wrapped his arms around her waist lightly and reached down for her hands until both their fingers were intertwined. He rested his head on her shoulder slightly, watching her stare at them together in the mirror. "Look at this person in the mirror." He whispered softly in her ear, letting his breath trail down her neck. "This isn't you."

He felt her body rack with tears, and he just stood and held her until her sobs subsided. "Toby, what's wrong with me?"

"Nothing." He said immediately. "You are still trying to wrap your brain around your father's death. "

"Toby," she whispered so softly that she almost couldn't hear him. "I miss him so much." He watched her eyes close and her breathing start to slow to normal. Her eyelashes fluttered a little while they closed. Watching her actions in the mirror was almost hypnotizing, but then again nearly everything about her was. "I was so excited for him to come home. And he was so close!" She took another deep breath. "I just can't believe he is gone. I love him so much Toby."

"I know you do." He whispered again, not wanting to break the intimacy of the moment. "But you still have your mom. She needs you."

"I don't know if I can be strong enough for her." She was looking at his reflection in the mirror intently.

"You can." He nodded affirmatively. "You're the strongest person I know."

She scoffed slightly, rolling her tear filled eyes. "I'm not that strong. I'm a coward. You are the strong one Toby."

He smiled at her reflection. "When you're not so strong, you have people who love you and will support you. Your friends, for one, who would do anything for you. Maya."

She interrupted him, as if the names he said were useless. "None of them will ever understand me like you do." She again stared at him in the mirror, waiting for his response intently. Their eyes locked and he felt it again. That feeling that they were the only two people in this world. She was right. They did understand each other on a whole other level that was even hard to verbalize.

"You've always had me Emily Fields. Don't you realize it?" His fingers gave hers a reassuring squeeze, and he softly pressed his lips against the sensitive crook of her neck.

She nodded, still not breaking their gaze. "I do now."

He wished they could stay like this forever. Just him and her, in the safety of his room. But the idiots of the world would wonder where she was. Her friends would wonder where she was. Her mother would be worried sick. So he reluctantly pulled out of their embrace and stepped back.

"Maybe I should take you home?" He questioned, already grabbing his jacket and shoes. He was going to walk her home no matter what she said.

"I would tell you I am perfectly capable of getting home by myself, but I'm guessing you're not going to be taking no for an answer?" She laughed, wiping her tear-stained cheeks. He swore the smile she gave him could light up this whole dark town.

"You guessed right. Let's go." He smiled back, a real and genuine smile.

She walked out his bedroom door, but not before slipping her small delicate hand in his. He didn't know what he ever did without that hand intertwined with his, but he knew he never wanted to find out.

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